Conditions

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Heyyyy guyyyyysssss..........I have nothing to say for myself......other than that my life is in shambles and I totally would've let you know I was going to post this if I hadn't completely shocked myself by actually writing it tonight so uhhhh......loved you :) missed you :) enjoy 💙🩵💜

P.S. I don't have a cover or banner prepared because I am too poor to afford photoshop rn lol

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Lance and Pidge had been playing hangman for the better part of the last two days.

"This imagery is gruesome for a children's game," Lotor muttered. The emperor sat at the opposite end of the green paladins bunk, legs and arms crossed as he looked on.

So far, the only letters they had guessed were vowels. He didn't need any more than that. "It's 'Hunk farts in his sleep'," Lance informed, before leaning back to lay down on the floor, hands tucked behind his head.

The yellow paladin sat up straight at the opposite end of Pidge's bunk, jostling Lotor's feet. "I do not!" He exclaimed, cheeks warm.

Pidge threw her hands to her hips by the wall. "You do too! You need to be more conscientious of those whose bunks are under yours!"

Lance chuckled, rolling over onto his stomach to watch the makeshift prison chess game they'd come up with using all of the loose change in their pockets. Lotor had provided some alloy Galran credits, which were most interestingly coin-sized, but square-shaped, and made wonderful pawns.

Adam versed Shiro pretty evenly. The new blue paladin had won the first few games, but Shiro picked it up well, and ended up being quite evenly matched for his fiancé.

The white paladin, still on his stomach, let his eyes wander to the bands on their fingers. What kind of customs did a half-Galran, half-Altean emperor partake in? There probably weren't rings, but was there some kind of signifier? Would Lotor even want to do something like that with him? After all, he'd offered to take Lance as his consort—called him His—and it meant everything to the paladin. But was something like marriage in the cards? Even becoming the consort to the Galran throne could be different if that's what their customs entailed.

Lotor met his eye—he hadn't realized his sights had drifted to his emperor. The man was a picture of royalty, even in such a civillian setting. He smiled sheepishly.

Some time later, Adam and Shiro had retired to the other end of Pidge's bunk, sitting opposite Hunk and discussing wedding and bachelor party cuisine in detail.

Lance challenged Pidge to a chess game. The two sat opposite each other, accompanied by Lotor, who sat at their side with his back against the wall, and his legs crossed again, fiddling idly with his armor settings.

The white paladin was distracted from the game as Lotor tilted his head, and the few short strands at his cheek curled around his jaw. He remembered vividly the moment he'd accidentally severed the strands with the black bayard.

"Pay attention, lover-boy," Pidge snapped. "I moved my rook," she said, pointing to a penny.

"I thought that one was mine," he complained.

"No, it's mine because I moved it from here..."

This went on for some time, until Lotor closed out of his settings display and focused entirely on the game.

"I think I might understand this game you are playing," he mentioned, and the two players turned to look at him. He studying the coins on the floor. "But love, aren't you going to defend against her attack?"

Lance blinked. "Defend against what? What attack?"

He pouted and looked across the board to Pidge, who wore a sharp grin and a dangerous glint in her eye as she snickered. "Hehe."

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